It seems as though every time yet another person goes on a killing spree, reporters and the population at large feel the need to assume that he is “mentally ill,” and encourage policies that further decimate the rights of people labeled with psychosocial disabilities, but is violence truly caused by “mental illness?” There is, truly, only one universal factor among mass killers- an incredible lack of empathy. Most of these individuals have a serious grievance with someone that, sometimes, is quite legitimate (ie. having been bullied) and sometimes, is overblown (ie. having been turned down when seeking sexual activity) and decide to exact revenge on an entire population that, in some way, represents the individual(s) who they feel wronged them. They want their grievances addressed, and believe that the only way to achieve this is with an act of horrific, large-scale violence.

Some of these individuals may struggle with mental health challenges and/or trauma histories, but given that a significant percentage are taking or withdrawing from psychotropic drugs at the time of their crimes, blaming “untreated mental illness” seems ridiculous, and any suggestion that more drugs and more force in mental health will curb mass shootings should be effectively offset by the fact that violent thoughts or impulses are a known side effect of many of the drugs these young men were prescribed. If we take the focus off baseless theories that they’re “crazy and need to be medicated,” and realize that nearly all of these killers had (a) suffered from some sort of injustice or trauma (or perception thereof), (b) want justice and for their grievances to be addressed, (c) lack the empathy to care about all those who never harmed them who will lose their lives or lose their loved ones due to their actions, and (d) have access to or the ability to obtain deadly weapons, we might actually get somewhere. Even if we threw the Constitution out the window and confiscated and destroyed all legally-obtained firearms tomorrow, it could still take quite a long time to gain any level of control over the illegal firearms market. Non-discriminatory policies that limit access to firearms could certainly make a significant impact on the prevalence of such crimes, but will not, on their own, stop mass shootings.

We hear a lot about “common sense policies” regarding gun violence, so I’d like to offer a few of my own. What if we worked to curb the tide of abuse and injustice that plagues children and young adults? What if, every time a child said that he was being bullied at school, school officials made their absolute, first priority to ensure that child’s future safety while on school grounds, and gave him the opportunity to talk openly about what he experienced? What if we reached out to every young person who seemed isolated or distressed and offered friendship, openness, and a listening ear? What if we treated our young, vulnerable citizens with so much empathy and kindness that they couldn’t help but learn to treat their fellow citizens the same way? What if we taught our children about empathy with as much fervor as we use to teach them about math and science? What if we respected children, teens and young adults as full and equal citizens in need of guidance, and not the property of guardians who may be loving, terribly abusive, or anything in between?

It is certainly difficult to legislate empathy, and politicians are certainly under tremendous pressure to “do something this time” after every mass murder. However, the difficulty involved in making these changes does not justify failing to even try. It also doesn’t justify the tide of increasingly draconian policies aimed at curbing the rights of those presumed to have a “mental illness” under the discredited assumption that such individuals are more likely to be violent. The fact that quite a few recent mass shooters had received a psychiatric label justifies limiting the rights of people with psychiatric labels about as much as the fact that the majority of US mass shooters were young, white men justifies limiting the rights of young, white men. We supposedly live in a country that values the principle of “innocent until proven guilty.” However, people labeled with psychosocial disabilities already live under a uniquely authoritarian, preventative detention regime, in which they can be immediately incarcerated in a mental health facility with little recourse if anyone accuses them of being a “danger to themselves or others,” or, all too often, only because their behavior is judged to be erratic or strange. The overwhelming majority of the time, a label of “dangerously mentally ill” is applied not to individuals who are homicidal, but to those who are (or are accused of being) suicidal and pose no danger to society. When we acknowledge that injustice is inherent in this system and is virtually universal in the lives of mass murderers, our true goal should be to create a more just system and a more just society to ease the distress that, in an incredible minority of cases, can be a factor that leads to mass murder.

Employers are legally barred from firing an employee with a disability solely because of that disability, if that employee can adequately do his job with reasonable accommodations. However, only a handful of states have laws that prevent an employee from losing her job because she was stalked or attacked at work, or because an employer finds out she has been victimized and fears that her abuser will take such an action. Even if you are working for or with a government agency, it is very possible to face discrimination for simply being a victim of abuse. I was once barred from any further contact with the dozens of children I was working with because the agency referring children to my program found out that I had been sexually abused, and I was told that it was “unsafe” for me to continue working with children. The implication was that my having been abused made me a potential abuser. Despite the fact that this was a government agency with firm non-discrimination policies, my pleas for the well-being of the children and to not be discriminated against based on acts committed against me fell on deaf ears, as did the poignant words of a former program participant, who passionately proclaimed that, “You have to fight this. You know these kids have nothing else.”

Just a couple of years after dozens of victimized children and I were punished because of the prejudices of this particular agency, I began looking for my own apartment. I fell in love with one apartment complex, which was beautiful, affordable, and less than a block away the beach. The landlord and I seemed to bond quickly, and I disclosed that I was concerned about an abuser being able to access my apartment, and asked him about the security of the building. He stated that he didn’t want to deal with this situation, and refused to rent me the apartment. Additionally, in most states, landlords can financially penalize a tenant for needing to break a lease to escape from an abuser.

Two of the biggest challenges when trying to escape from an abuser are securing safe housing and achieving financial stability. We, as a society, largely bar abuse survivors from housing and employment and then, question why so many wind up homeless or return to an abuser. I will never understand the blatant prejudice, but I understand the concern of some employers and landlords about a violent situation spilling over into a workplace or apartment complex and resulting in property damage, scaring off customers, or endangering other workers, clients or residents, but this fear should instigate a process of making appropriate accommodations for the abused person to protect them and others. Just as an employer might need to install wheelchair ramps for a disabled worker, she might need to install panic buttons or allow a worker to change his phone number often if his abuser still poses a threat. If we truly want to stop abuse, we must make society welcoming and inclusive for those who have been abused.

Asking for help is always difficult, but for a naturally independent person who suddenly comes down with a debilitating illness or other physical limitation, it can seem impossible. I always highly valued my independence and ability to care for myself, and since becoming seriously ill, I find it quite difficult to ask for help, or even to accept offers for help with activities of daily living that have become a challenge for me. I believe that part of this reluctance stems from an unwillingness to accept the practical reality of my physical limitations, as I have only been seriously ill for about a year and a half, and it frustrates me immensely that I cannot do everything my friends can do. Part of it stems from, quite simply, not having had a lot of help for quite a while. I spent many months running from an abuser with very little outside assistance, and became quite proficient at loading all of my possessions onto my walker for each of my frequent moves and forcing my body far past its limitations in a multitude of other ways. Part of it, quite simply, is pride. No competent adult wants to have to ask someone to get them something to eat, do some laundry for them, etc. I’d like to offer a few things to remember if you are ever trying to help a loved one with a disability:

It’s hard to ask for help, so why not offer? It’s a lot easier to accept an invitation for help than to directly ask for it. Nobody wants to feel like a burden, so whenever possible, try to offer to help in ways that don’t appear to take you out of your way (ie. “I’m heading out to the supermarket- can I pick up anything for you?”).

Understand that someone’s limitations may change quite regularly. Just because I can’t do something today, that doesn’t mean I won’t be well enough to do it tomorrow.

Don’t tell someone that they are too disabled to do something. If someone clearly needs help with something but rejects your offer for help, avoid trying to force them to accept your assistance. If possible, try to offer a more limited way to help that the individual in question might feel more comfortable accepting. One night, I really wasn’t feeling well, but was living in a building where my room was upstairs and I was on the ground floor. My muscles were collapsing as I tried to even walk with my walker, and I was offered the opportunity to sleep downstairs, which I did not want to do because all of my belongings were upstairs and I was more comfortable there. Instead of trying to force the issue, the person I was speaking with asked if she could carry my walker up the stairs for me and just walk behind me to make sure I got to my room safely, and I gladly accepted this offer.

Try not to make someone feel as though there is something wrong with them for needing a certain kind of assistance, or that their particular needs are, in any way, an inconvenience. Incessant questions about someone’s particular medical issues, medication regimen, mobility devices, etc. simply aggravates the feeling of being different or, somehow, less than one’s peers, that tends to come along with serious disabilities. Any question that starts with, “What’s wrong with your _________?”, “Why do you need to _________?” or, “Why can’t you _________?” will, most likely, just make someone feel as if something is innately wrong with them. People with disabilities certainly need opportunities to talk and, quite honestly, to just rant about the daily challenges that they face, but there are far more accepting and less stigmatizing ways to instigate such a dialogue. For a long time, I refused to use any sort of mobility device, and still feel conflicted about occasionally needing a wheelchair, as I feel as though every time I admit the need for a mobility device that I did not previously need, it is an acknowledgment that my condition is getting worse. Luckily, I have a friend who reminded me that all these devices are for is to make it easier to do things that I want to do, regardless of my illness, and that it’s more about not having to reject invitations to do things that I enjoy than making any kind of grand statement about my overall health.

If you know someone with a disability, try to make a point to look at the person, not his impairments. There is no illness that should take away an individual’s right to make his own decisions, whether or not you may agree that those decisions are truly in his best interest- after all, only he knows how his body feels. Help is most appreciated, but only when it is coupled with respect and every possible effort to treat the person in question as a full member of society who is in control of her own destiny.

Our culture suffers from a bit of an obsession with our biological origins. Those who gave birth to us are our parents, and others who are genetically connected to us are our family members, and we are expected to respect and love them, even when they prove themselves to be unworthy of our respect and love. This is exemplified in holidays such as Mother’s Day and Father’s Day- no matter what your parents may have done to you, there is a cultural expectation that you will contact your family of origin on these holidays. You’re likely to be looked down upon if you refuse to be with your family of origin on any of the major “family holidays” for whatever your religious or cultural affiliation may be. If you’ve been abused by the very people you’re expected to laud on these occasions, you’re still likely to hear comments like, “Come on, give them a chance- after all, it’s Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Other-Winter-Holiday-Of-Your-Choosing.” Survivors often talk about spending holidays without families, and how these are often the hardest days of the year for them. The good news is, the solution to this problem is remarkably simple- we need to change our cultural concept of what a family is.

I am blessed with a wonderful family. The fact that most of them have no biological connection to me is meaningless. I know that if I’m in any kind of danger, my family will get together to find a way to help me, and make sure to protect me until that solution is reached. The friend who didn’t know how to help me as I was running away from my abuser, but sent me a big box of stuffed animals, cards, and books, hoping to just put a smile on my face, is family. The friends who hid me out at their houses and consistently put their own lives on hold to ensure my safety are family. The friends who advocated for me when nobody would help me and responded lovingly to my countless hysterical phone calls are family. My absolutely incredible, little brother, who gives me a reason to keep trying to look for answers in the middle of a horrific situation, is family. Who needs more of a family than that?

Child abuse survivors are often made to feel like there are only two options- suffer with the family they’re born with, or be alone, and it is up to each of us to show these very brave survivors that they do not have to suffer through abuse in order to be part of a family, and to be that loving, supportive family member to anyone in our life who may need one. Survivors need to know that it is okay not to want to be a part of an abusive family, and to have the unconditional love and support of substitute family members.

Those of us who firmly believe in bringing human rights to mental healthcare have been gravely concerned about the widespread, bipartisan support of H.R. 3717 (see this article for more information on H.R. 3717). Much of the mainstream press has hailed it as a desperately needed series of reforms to our broken mental health system, and only appears to value the perspectives of a handful of mental health professionals and parents of adult children with mental health challenges who believe that they should have more legal authority over their family members. Mental health consumers, survivors of forced psychiatry and other mental health advocates have always seen the bill for what it is- a regressive, inhumane set of “reforms” that would bring us back to a time when any behavior that others found to be strange was a life sentence, and when abusive relatives could assert complete, legal control over their victims so long as they accused them of being “mentally ill.” However, the movement for human rights in psychiatry has been pushed far out of the mainstream, and it often seems as if we do little more than preach to the choir.

I have been involved in quite a few human rights movements, and have never seen anything quite as remarkable as the grassroots efforts of this incredible movement that has been so disheartened with the increase of rights violations in recent years, such as the spread of forcibly medicating people in their own homes. We lack the money, political ground game, and professional credentials of many of our opponents, yet we managed to effectively defeat the Murphy Bill with the power of our own voices and our own stories of oppression. We refused to allow our voices to fade in the background as our few remaining rights were stripped away, and we contacted politicians en masse. We told our stories, and demanded to be heard. It worked. Republican lawmakers will attempt to pass the pieces of H.R. 3717 that are not considered controversial, such as increasing research and training in mental health, but the comprehensive legislation, including the provisions for increasing forcible treatments and stripping rights and protections from individuals with mental health diagnoses, appear to be off the table. This is an incredible victory for mental health advocates and people who are at risk of forced psychiatric interventions, and truly demonstrates democracy and people power at their finest. We must remain vigilant and keep a close eye on all the relevant proceedings to ensure that no measures that strip people of their rights and help they truly want slip through, but this is certainly a time to celebrate, as well.

When I was involuntarily detained in a psychiatric unit on the grounds that one psychiatrist believed that a medical condition I had been diagnosed with does not exist, and that this meant I was delusional (see this article for more information on my hospitalization for this reason), I repeatedly informed the staff that they were violating the law by holding me there. I stated that they had every right to believe I was not medically ill and that my health challenges were psychosomatic, but I was not alleged to be a danger to anyone, and they had no legal grounds for holding me against my will because of this opinion. I was ignored, but I was correct. I am thankful that if any such circumstance was to reoccur, I would, at least, be legally justified in making the same argument. I truly hope that I’ll live to see the day when emotional distress can never be an excuse to lock someone up or drug them against their will, and when community supports for such individuals will be so comprehensive and effective that nobody can claim the necessity in doing so, but for today, I am proud of this significant achievement. I am proud to live in a country where voices rising up in protest of systematic injustices do matter. I am proud to live in a country where H.R. 3717 will not be the law of the land.

Years ago, I was running a workshop on child abuse and sexual assault for middle and high school students. One student asked, “Can we really blame rapists? They can’t control themselves.” Instead of responding directly to this question, I asked everyone in the room to stand up if they had ever been in a class with a teacher who was mercilessly screaming at them with little provocation, and thought about how much they wished they could just punch this teacher in the face. Every single participant stood up, resulting in quite a bit of laughter at this shared experience. I, then, asked that anyone who actually punched such a teacher in the face stay standing, and every participant sat down. I asked the young man who had posed the original question if that answered his question, and he nodded his head. I repeated this experiment at two subsequent workshops when this question was asked, and found that the exact same thing happened each time- every student acknowledged having had violent thoughts about a teacher, and not one of them had acted on them.

Sexual assault happens in the shadows, in private homes and other locations in which perpetrators feel they will not get caught. It happens in every city and every town and even within many families, and yet, we do not see men, women, and children being sexually assaulted in the middle of the street or other public places. Clearly, rapists have some level of self-control if they are able to plot ways to get their victims alone and control their impulses in situations that could lead to an arrest. People can desire to sexually control others or even be attracted to young children and still, not harm anyone. In order to test this theory, I once began seeking out individuals who had sexual thoughts about young children but chose not to act on them. Only one of the men I spoke with (unfortunately, I had no female volunteers) ever ended up abusing a child. I got to know these men quite well as they were unbelievably candid with me, and I think the distinction between this one perpetrator and the other men I interviewed was pretty straightforward- he was the only interviewee who appeared to lack empathy. One man I interviewed spoke to me about how he could never look in a young child’s eyes and do something that would be so devastating, that the thought of the damage abuse inflicts on children would always keep him from taking such an action. The sole perpetrator I interviewed answered questions in a more hollow, detached manner. He expressed an understanding that abusing children is unacceptable, but did not seem overly disturbed by his thoughts about doing so, and ended up acting out violently in many areas of his life. I do not believe that abuse is caused by the impulse to abuse, or by a lack of self-control. The problem is an overwhelming lack of empathy. The problem is with someone who can look at a child who is shaking from fear, or a partner who is hysterically attempting to fight him off, and fail to see a human being. The problem is with a society that preaches success and power and leaves love and human connection out of the picture.

When we fail to put the blame for sexual assault squarely on the perpetrators, that doesn’t mean that we blame nobody- in fact, we end up blaming victims. Women and girls are told not to wear revealing outfits, not to go out alone at night, and not to drink at a party because it is perceived that a potential rapist will “not be able to help himself.” We put the onus of rape prevention on potential victims, and when assaults do happen, victims such as myself have to deal with questions like, “What could you have done to keep this from happening?” We avoid “uncomfortable” discussions about these issues when they’re needed the most, and teach teenagers more about not having sex and birth control measures than about consent and mutual respect. We have a violence epidemic in this country, and instead of blaming it on this uncontrollable, boogeyman-type figure, we must address our widespread lack of empathy by practicing empathy toward all those we interact with and teaching empathy in every home, classroom and workplace.

Just about everyone who knows me has heard me lament about the fact that my abuser has managed to effectively evade the criminal justice system, while my behavior is constantly policed. Now, I have never been convicted of or even charged with a criminal offense, so what is the terrible, criminal act it is perceived that I committed? A psychiatrist determined that a medical diagnosis I had received from multiple physicians was “not a real disease,” and that I was delusional (see “I Am Justina Pelletier” for more information on what led to my hospitalization for this reason and how the involvement of a patient advocate led to my quick release), regardless of the ample evidence to prove the truth in the statements I made to him, and here in the “land of the free,” a diagnosis of a “serious mental illness” warrants someone losing more rights than someone who was accused of a violent crime.

My abuser can speak about the mistreatment he experienced at the hands of his own caretakers without fear. He can use their actions to attempt to excuse his own behavior and play the victim. I don’t maintain this right, as I have been repeatedly threatened with legal action or involuntary hospitalization if I take any further, official action against this individual. When I am having a difficult time dealing with the incredible injustice of this and the ongoing threat this person poses to me, and make any statement that could be perceived as having suicidal intent, I will immediately be locked up without question, as I am “mentally ill” and have attempted suicide before in a desperate effort to escape from this abuse. The first amendment applies to rapists, but not to those perceived to be mentally ill.

I am not legally allowed to own a gun. Now, to be fair, I hate guns and have no interest in owning one, as I know that statistically, those who buy guns as a means of protection from abuse are more likely to be killed by their own weapon than to be able to effectively use one in self-defense. However, my rapist can legally purchase a gun, and this distinction infuriates me. I have been involuntarily hospitalized, and this puts my name on the same registry of people prohibited from purchasing weapons as convicted rapists and murderers. The fact that the hospital in question was, essentially, forced to release me thanks to the involvement of a wonderful patient advocate, has no bearing on this fact or on the massive discrimination I have faced when trying to seek help. The second amendment applies to rapists, but not to those perceived to be mentally ill.

My abuser is protected from “cruel and unusual” punishment. Even if he had been convicted and imprisoned, he would be legally entitled to medical care. While hospitalized, all it took for the psychiatrist on staff to refuse to speak to my medical doctors and deny me the medical care I desperately needed was his arbitrary determination that I was not really medically ill, and was just delusional. As my health quickly deteriorated and I began losing the ability to walk, he was well within his rights, based on the unchecked diagnosis that he had made, to insist that I was simply choosing not to walk. The eighth amendment applies to rapists, but not to those perceived to be mentally ill.

If my abuser had been charged for any of his crimes, he would have been legally entitled to a trial, at which point he could have testified on his own behalf and had an attorney to present witnesses and evidence supporting his supposed innocence. I was not visited by an attorney until five days after I requested to speak to one, and was repeatedly told that the psychiatrist would not speak to my therapist, my doctors, or anyone else who might be able to prove that I was not actually delusional. The fourteenth amendment applies to rapists, but not to those perceived to be mentally ill.

Why do we, as a society, dismiss or vilify those who have received a psychiatric diagnosis? Why do we give so much credence to psychiatric opinion when psychiatrists regularly admit that they make the wrong diagnosis about half the time, and diagnose autoimmune patients with some form of psychosomatic illness approximately 40% of the time (for a handful of particularly misunderstood or difficult-to-diagnose conditions, this can rise to at least 85%)? Why do we fear those who experience emotional distress, and refuse to hold the people who traumatized them and caused this distress accountable? I am unwilling to accept even more rights violations due to politicians like Tim Murphy using the Santa Barbara shooting to perpetuate fear of the so-called “violent mentally ill,” when those with psychiatric labels and no co-occurring substance abuse issues are not, statistically, more likely to commit an act of violence than any other citizens. Regardless, if the psychiatric treatments on offer from the systems that force “mentally ill” individuals into treatment are so effective in preventing violence, why is it that virtually every mass shooter in recent American history was taking or withdrawing from one or more psychotropic drugs at the time of his attacks? My message to Rep. Murphy and those who agree with him is to stop scapegoating people who are already suffering, and instead of focusing on forcing more people into the mental health system and causing even more trauma and injustice, please, focus on the universal support and acceptance of our fellow man that will decrease suffering and violence, as well as on protecting victims and appropriately punishing those who choose to act out violently.

Note: I have focused a great deal on my having been misdiagnosed, and the horrific results of this misdiagnosis within my interactions with the mental health and criminal justice systems. However, it should not have mattered if I was floridly psychotic when entering that hospital. There is no justification for depriving someone of freedom (who has not committed a criminal offense) or protection from an abuser, regardless of what psychiatric labels that person may have received. In fact, an enormous percentage of those determined to be “seriously” mentally ill are survivors of horrific trauma, and I truly hope that my continued focus on the injustice of having been misdiagnosed does not, in any way, appear to negate the very real traumas endured by people who experience psychotic states, both in and out of the mental health system.